Page 23 of Crazy for You
“Perfect. Whenever you can,” the computer voice said.
Every fiber in me wanted to take that voice and throw it out the window. I should have been used to it, but I wasn’t. Not in the freaking least. I wanted to hear Dad’s voice. I would give anything for that.
“Go,” Nan said to Colton. “I need to take care of Mr. Lawson.”
Colton gave them a quick nod before his long legs ate up the space between us. Then he placed his hand on my lower back, and I thought I would melt as my mouth became bone-dry.
I was about to be alone with Colton Caldwell, and I was sure I would be a blubbering idiot.
9
My two-car garage was extremely confining and suffocating even though the space was large. We only had one car, and it was outside.
Colton glanced around as if cataloging what he wanted to steal. I had no clue why I was thinking about him taking stuff. He didn’t look like a criminal. Then again, I knew very little about the six-foot-tall hunk of a guy who made my heart race for the darn end zone.
I licked my lips as I shuffled over to my side of the garage. Yep, I had my own area, complete with a locker and skateboard gear and other stuff like a toolbox, which Dad had put together for me.
Yet the small distance between the gorgeous specimen and me wasn’t enough. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
Colton sauntered up to Dad’s workbench, which traveled the length of the garage. “Your dad has a great arsenal of tools here. Was he a mechanic or something?”
I clutched the edge of my own wooden bench, which was small compared to Dad’s. “Something like that. He worked in the power industry before he…” I sighed. I didn’t want to talk about Dad. I was tired of explaining ALS or even thinking about the awful disease.
Colton whirled around like a hurricane that came out of nowhere. “I thought you told your dad about me hitting you with my truck.” He roughed a hand through his long locks, and I badly wanted to be that hand. I liked his hair down rather than tied back, although he was handsome no matter how he wore it. “He’s probably going to tell my mom.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Then she’ll tell my old man.” Pain blended with something far darker than anger.
“I’ll tell him not to.”
With his right hand, he grabbed his left triceps, which peeked through the sleeve of his T-shirt. “It doesn’t matter.” His words definitely didn’t match the scowl he was sporting.
I angled my head. “Yeah, it does. I saw the fight with your dad.”Way to go, Skyler. Stick foot in mouth. Now he’ll think you’re a nosy neighbor.
He flinched, shock dripping off him for a split second before he banked his emotions. “So as I told your dad, I don’t have time to work on your car tonight. Was that your proposition?” His tone was a tad harsh, reminding me of Grady in a way.
I clenched my teeth as I pushed my back into the bench, hoping it would swallow me. Otherwise, I would be tempted to do something that would only serve to break my hand. His abs were made of stone. His jaw was, too. And I wasn’t the one making him furious—that medal went to his dad, or so I hoped.
I crossed my arms over my chest so he wouldn’t see my hands shaking. Colton unnerved me in a good way. However, I didn’t want to be around someone who would take his crap out on me. I didn’t put up with Grady’s shit, and I certainly wasn’t about to tolerate any wrath from Colton, no matter how he stirred the woman inside me to want to climb him like a monkey.
Oh my word! Shut up, Skyler.
“Spending time with your girlfriend?” I held my breath.Why the heck am I spouting off? Stupid, stupid girl.
His eyes became slits as fire brimmed in their depths. “Something like that.”
My cheeks burned like a house up in flames. I was ready to scream at the top of my lungs.
He strutted toward me like a lion about to attack his prey.
That breath I was holding was making me dizzy. Or maybe it was his cologne or soap. The closer he came, the dizzier I got. Pheromones be damned.
My pulse ramped up and I thought about running. I wasn’t afraid of him, but of me. I was afraid I would do something foolish like attack him.
He came to an abrupt halt about a foot from me, as though he was the one who was scared.
I was ready to expel the air in my lungs until he took one step, then another, before he was standing in my personal space. He lowered his head, studying me as if I was a science experiment.
I looked at the shiny floor Dad had painted last year.
Then he leaned in, his muscular arms going around me as though he were caging me in.
